An entry from my Journal

There are two things you need to know before you read the article:

that this is an entry from my journal, dated 9th October 2008. The previous entry was dated 19th September 2008 and is a mess of scribblings.

that this article was interrupted twice in its course. I started writing it at around 10 a.m. and managed to finish it only at 8 p.m. Any disappointment and glitches in the style be all respectable M's fault! (:P) But I can't help wondering about the possible histories, the variety of endings I might have made if I had not been interrupted. Who picks my destiny from so many probable histories? But, the three sisters of Destiny have already lost my thread! So who picks my shoes for me? Who is that enigmatic faery that gently guides me?

Well... the article:

long time! I know.
I am beginning to believe that this is the only way of filling this journal up. Usually, its the waiting for something interesting to happen that's responsible for the lag. Now, though, its waiting for a chance to remember and write.
Yes, I've finally become busy - something that every man and woman so desperately wants to be - something that I envied in others until then - something that, I don't think, is particularly nice, now. I've become busy for two reasons: right and wrong.
I've taken up a job and this is a reason that is both right and wrong. It is not exactly what I wanted to do in my life. However, it gives me enough room to keep trying to do what I want to. And more importantly, it gives me freedom; though there is a little doubt that this freedom is an illusion. The job also lets me whet my blade with which I hope to sever all the fetters that bind me to this mundane world; though there is a tiny voice in my head which whispers that the fetters are an illusion in the first place and that even if they existed, it might not be a good idea to sever them.
I guess I was careless sometime, somewhere and that tiny span of in-attention made me susceptible. I got infected: I'm rotting, becoming human, from outside. That's a good thing though. It always rots from outside. There is hope that by the time the deepest depths are reached, the mortal human would die, leaving the core unblemished.
Then there is this another job which keeps me busy on weekends and this is a reason which is entirely wrong. For, in the first place, I wanted to devote my weekends completely to do the one thing I want to do in my life. Secondly, its a job that I don't particularly like. And thirdly and most importantly, they used the ugliest means to get me. When I told them politely that I would rather not do it, they put the proposal again; this time through the one person I would not disobey. And to think that mamma actually put me to it with out any consideration for my wants! - I felt betrayed - a fiery anger stifled and suppressed into a pinpoint!
I know what you must be thinking. There is no reason why I should absolutely obey her. Then again, there is no reason. No reason at all in my world. No reason for anything I do. Unreasonable! That's how I like it. A life dictated by desire and want, pure and uncontaminated by reason.
When I am not at either of the two jobs, I find myself busy with a pursuit. Everybody has a pursuit, She tells me: pursuit of happiness, wealth, power, fame or girls (She actually said that! :P) or anything else that might of interest. I already have wealth; I am a King. Of course I have power; would not be much of a King otherwise. Fame! ha! Would it not be enough if the thousands of minions in the legion know I am their commander. Is it not enough that there are rulers who have nightmares if they think plan to fight me. I am famous enough. No! None of the above mentioned items interest me. But I have found something worth a pursuit. I have strayed too far and lost the way. So now, I'm looking for the door that leads me back home - the Valley of Fireflies in the Enchanted Forest.
In this pursuit, I've been studying opals! The scientific name would be photonic crystals. Stray! Stray! Stray! Sometimes that's all that I'm capable of. One thing led to another and before I knew it, I am neck deep drowning in Scattering theory.
Well, I've to get back home someday. So this pursuit is not altogether wrong. But then again it's not entirely a right reason because I know the harder I pursue more evasive the door is and that it will present itself to me when the time has come. Well! Every King has his crazy hobbies, his bouts of madness! When I am not occupied with anything else, you'll find me doing what I've always wanted to do in my life - and this is a completely right reason - ignoring, of course, a few exceptions one of which is one of the subjects of this brief writeup. Reading stories - that's what I've always wanted to do in my life. Everything else is just a means. "nimmiththa maatram"

So much for the reasons why I've become busy which in turn is the reason for the hiatus since the last entry in my journal. And now... one of the two subjects of this entry: An exception from the four things that keep me busy.

Its not everyday that I get to meet people. Its a crazy world that I live in. Everybody is busy. Everybody wasn't, until sometime back. I felt odd. Very odd. Sometimes I even envied them. I wished I was busy too. Now I am. Now everybody is. While that is so, it brings immense happiness - the prospect of meeting some one over a coffee - the prospect of the prospect actually happening.
And so it happened - like a miracle; I could almost see the faeries sprinkling glowing pollen all around - two years and three months since I last saw her, I met her again, a few days back. N. The girl with big black eyes. Vanitha's Zephyra! Unfortunately (for the readers) I can't put in words my happiness or any other feelings that coursed through me during the rendezvous. There is a reason. (So many reasons in the life of someone who lives by wants and desires!) My ability to put in words anything I want to, I think, stems from the incessant firing of the neurons in my head which leads to so much noise. I've gotten used to it now, but it is still unbearable and believe me, if you will, when I say, I've sufferred through bouts of clutching my head, clenched fists, pulling my hair, choked throat, brimming eyes and an immense, unfathomable pain from that place somewhere in the chest, I could never pinpoint to. To say it in few words, it's a curse! (Now that sounds cool!) There are only two people in this whole world who can put this painful heart to rest, arrest the neural firing and shower upon me the blessing of peace. Peace! Oh such wonderful Peace! N. is one of the two.
That is why I can't write anymore about the short get-together. Yes, it was a get-together. When a person means the world, meeting him/her is a get-together. It was a get-together where Raven, Aeon, Saki, Azure, the oldman Seraph, N and myself were all present. Sitting. Separately. Quietly.

The other subject of this entry, of course, is books. Book! actually. I recently finished 'The Thief Lord' by Cornelia Funke. This book followed the 'Neverwhere' by Neil Gaiman in my reading-spree series. The Thief Lord was not the best book I've read, but it's a just book to shelve among the fantasy books. The writing style is modestly simple and lucid. Though it resembled a little like another Neverwhere, only set in Venice, instead of London Underground, I've been chiding myself 'it is not true'. The main attraction of the book though, in my opinion, is the theme: children wanting to be grown ups as quickly as possible, just so they would not be bossed around. After finishing The Thief Lord, I took up, for the second attempt, The Kite Runner. I know. Its completely out of the league of books I've been reading. But everyone kept telling me it's a nicely written book and I wanted to read it, if for nothing else, to know what it means to write nicely. May it was nicely written, but I would have admitted it if it had been used for a fantasy story. I get enough of the reality myself and I don't want to read another book or watch another movie to remind me how distraught and wretched mankind is. I already know it. I KNOW IT ALREADY! And so the second attempt, subsequently failed, half-way through the book.
Meanwhile, there was a 'chance-meeting'. Quite fated, in my opinion. I happened to glance through the first page article of HT Cafe' one of the past few days to know about a book title "Children of the Enchanted Forest" by an author I have not heard of before. Timeri N Murari. Enchanted Forest! Home! Reportedly, it's a fantasy novel - well with in the league. One of these days I am going to have to read it. And while on the topic of to-read-books, I should remind myself that Neil Gaiman's new book, "The Graveyard Book", is going to be released this month (or has it already?)
Putting the Kite Runner back into the depths of my bag, I opened the much awaited 'The Book Thief' by Markus Zusak. Finishing the Prologue I fell in love with it, just as I had expected; expectations based on the reviews. I've only completed two chapters, but I know this book ain't gonna disappoint me. It's awesome. So cool. Chilling.
I had planned to write few lines from the book here. But without the context, they might be a waste and got no spirit left to write more...
And as you might have noticed, I did not really write much about a book I fell in love with.. Books are more like the two people I mentioned. They give me peace. The price I pay for this peace is forfeiting words!

Finally, I think I have caught up with my current affairs. Time to stroll on...

nja ne!
Jade.

31 May, '07

What I feared the most has finally come! The conflict between "Free Will" and "Destiny" has smelt its way into my life finally, binding my claws and my wings, leaving my eyes wide open to cry until I drown in my own tears! No, this is not me self-pitying. No, this is not an SOS in a bottle. My head is clear and I can see the dusk closing in, the deepest darkness that lies ahead, the tempest in its most malicious form, the monster with his smirk, looking down upon me. I am left with no choice but to choose. And yet, the choice, no matter what, is my doom! My end! What do I do, Oh Raven draped in black? What do I do?

Jade

P.S. : I don't remember why I wrote this

on "Neverwhere" by Neil Gaiman

The book in the following conversation refers to the Title mentioned in the title of this article.

Me: hmm.. nice book. Powerful. Not in the spiritual sense. But I could not write anything until I finished it.
R: <a nod>
Me: but the ending is kind of spoilt. definitely he could've done better.
R: Oh?
Me: yea. I mean.. the story took the cliche'd course towards the end. Richard is more close to Door and he has title and honours in the London Below. So he yearns to go back and finally does. Its how an amatuer writer would end a story. Its how all fairy tales end.. "happily ever after". And Neil is not amatuer. Its evident from the rest of the novel and from the "Witch's HeadStone"  of "The Graveyard Book", how stunningly cool he can be.
R: May be he did not want to be cool. May be he wanted to deliver his insight on human nature.
Me: that humans always look for adventure and power and are not satisfied with a quiet and calm and contented life?
R: uh huh.
Me: that might be true. but i still wish he wrote a different ending. see how brave Jonathan Stroud was in ending his Bartimaeous Trilogy? now that was real cool.
R: I guess no body can satisfy you there.. you crave for so much coolness, I am afraid you are being rather cold on Neil.
Me: <:P> <a long pause> You think I should now start reading classics?
R: May be. Try one and see if you are ready.
Me: hmm...
R: You got any on your mind?
Me: yea.. A Tale of Two Cities.
R: If thats what you have on your mind, thats what you get in your bag then <sly smile>

Thats how I now ended up starting a new book... A Tale of Two Cities by Charles Dickens.

--
Jade.

Apology (to Science)

I feel way too sober this morning. So I will keep this short. This is with regards to my article Wrecked by Science, the second article below this one.

I finally finished reading Neil Gaiman's "Neverwhere". I enjoyed it. But this article is not a review or a criticism on the book. Towards the end of the novel, I realised that Door's eyes were indeed multi-coloured: blue and orange and flame or something like that. I felt bad on realising this. I remembered that I had accused science for giving me a wrong impression. I know I can not take my words back. Words are the only entities where I have a untainted honour. So... well.. I apologise to Science.

Jade

27 August, 2008

And She whispered to Him.........

He sat on the parapet on his porch; watching the waves wash up the shore like he has always been, ever since the waves existed. He is a King and he has his legions to do his bidding: legions of minions who are not aware of their King. He is the King who guards the Time. He is a forgotten King. Nobody hails to the King Aeon. And now he is a King nobody knows of. There is a disc beside him rolling and singing Ani DiFranco's music in his ears.

He is a King who guards the Time. What he guards, he guards dearly for he created them. He is the youngest among the Kings and he is the oldest. He is capable of moulding time. He is a generous King who gave eternal time to a young mortal who contemplated suicide, another mortal couple that sat in each other's company and to many more when they had to make important decisions. He is taunting when it comes to making quick decisions and gives no time at all. He has no particular endearment to any moment. But today ... today is the day that is dear to him.

He is the King who gaurds the spoken Word. What he gaurds, he gaurds dearly for he created them. The world was a silent place before him. The higher creatures talked through eyes and thoughts and the lower ones simply did not talk. He is the creator of the word and he is the first one to write down his Mother's thoughts for him. Yet, he did not have a word to describe himself. He did not hear a word today. How he wished he heard it!

He had fostered many spirits in his time.. rosy and whiny and all other kinds. He could summon them at the click of his fingers. But he found none today and he would not summon them.

He sat on the parapet of his porch watching the waves crash on to the walls. He had never felt a thing. The waves always have crashed and he always has watched. But today there was a feeling. Something troubling him. Something that he could not understand. He was a brave and fearless King for he understood everything and understanding gave him strength. But now, for the first time he felt fear. A foe that he could not fathom. But the fear did not last longer than a moment for the nemesis was already tearing him apart. The feeling. A pang in his heart.

And then he felt he heard it. A whisper. The word that he has been wanting to hear from his dearest. But it was just a feeling...

There was no word. It was an empty night and the only words came from Ani DiFranco's lyrics.

He caught sight of a falling star. He closed his eyes. He whispered, "..rts...it hurts.." and then he shrieked his heart out, "IT HURTS RAVEN. IT HURTS". He fell back, slipping from the top of the high wall, "take me home".

"Not yet, my baby", came the awaited whisper, "not yet". The young King floated for a moment in the air and then was gliding through air, in Raven's arms, tears slipping off the brink of his eyes on to Raven's arms.

"I'm growing old, mama. I'm scared I will lose you in..."
"Happy Birthday, Jade!", showing black pearls of the King's tears in her palm, "I will always be beside you for as long as you need to be here"

--
Raven.

P.S. : Its true people lose touch of the child within when they grow old. But that ain't gonna happen to you Jade, because I am not your child.. I am your mother. So cheer up. And happy birthday! :)

Wrecked by Science

Since I have been down with cold and sleeplessness due to overflow of dreams, I have not had strength to take to pen or do much serious work. Theory of scattering of light by a system of multitude of arbitrarily shaped particles at arbitrary positions and moving at arbitrary velocities is a particularly taxing work to study and requires clean nose and a head clear of the spilt dreams. So I now spend much of my time (this does not include the mysterious amount of time I spend at the "Office") cuddled up in my bed under the dim yellow light produced from the excitation and de-excitation of x times y times N molecules in the almost transparent tube; x being the mass of the gas inside the tube, y being the inverse of the molar weight of the gas and N, of course, being the Avogadro's number. Poor fellow could never rest in peace, his name being called every time somebody calculates the number of molecules somewhere. Cuddled up in bed, under the blanket that helps me be isolated from the surroundings, holding up a hankie under my nose, clutching the book in my other hand, I spend some quality time with myself wandering beside Richard Mayhew in the London Below.

Did you ask who is Richard Mayhew?
I say 'Shame on you'!
Suffice it to say that when I step out of the blanket, he is just a character in "Neverwhere" by Neil Gaiman.
Am I delirious?
Oh well! Its possible but improbable.
What am I blabbering?
May be I should give a introduction to what I am going to write. But the piece is going to be so short, it might not be worth an introduction. Does not matter; for your sake, I shall. This is a story of how Science wrecked my life. There you go!

Not a wreckage that I can not recover from. Its like one of those annoying holes in the umbrella the moth makes, you never knew of until you took the umbrella out in the rain. Its one of those things that has made my forehead flat! Every time Richard Mayhew talks to the mysterious girl named Door, Neil Gaiman, probably out of fascination, gives the description of the girl: 'pale elfin faced, with opal coloured eyes'. So every time I look into Door's eyes, I see eye balls that glitter orange and red and green and blue and keep shifting colours for as long as you look. Beware! It can drive you crazy. Every time I see those shifting colours, I inevitably slap my forehead. Opals in optics can be red in colour. They can be orange or green or pink or blue. It depends on the periodicity of the constituent material and is tunable! But opals in arts and literature has always been blue. The blue that the natural opal is often found in. I had known this as a child. I had known it until I took up to study opals the last seven months of my academic life. But thanks to Science, I now always see multi-coloured pupils in Door's eyes, which is not really a charming site, believe me! And then I remember that I am reading a novel and not a science theory. This is often accompanied by slamming my forehead. Which in turn has only aggravated my illness. Then I close my eyes and take a deep breath. Then I open them into Door's beautiful blue eyes.

Apart from the pain from slapping my forehead, there is this bad feeling of being slowed down and a feeling of guilty that science is preventing me from giving the book the appreciation it deserves.

Thats the story of how science wrecked my life! But its not fatal. And all is well that ends well. I just wanted to pin this up in the blog.

The "Neverwhere" by the way, is a really awesome book. I have not finished it, but I will soon. And oh! Neil Gaiman's new book, "The Graveyard Book" is set to be released and is expected in the stands by October. I had read a chapter "The Witch's HeadStone" from the book and take my word, its going to be the "cool, spine-chilling, heart-warming, chocolaty" book. I don't know how else to describe the book. I have never been crazier about a book. So watch out for it, all ye fantasy lovers.

nja na
Jade

William 'Hobbes'worth

I READ THAT GIRLS ARE

MADE OF "SUGAR AND SPICE
AND EVERYTHING NICE"..

..WHEREAS BOYS ARE MADE OF
"SNIPS AND SNAILS
AND PUPPY DOGS' TAILS"

Calvin: HMPH. SO WHAT ARE TIGERS MADE OF?

"DRAGONFLIES AND KATTYDIDS
BUT MOSTLY CHEWED-UP LITTLE KIDS"

Calvin: OH. THAT'S CLEVER

I did not know Mr. Hobbes had a poet in him. Oh, but I should've known. With a kid like Calvin with him, it ain't a surprise!

--
Jade.

P.S. The dialogue is a property of Bill Watterson. I acknowledge that.